Over a week ago I received a phone call and learned that one of my former students had committed suicide. This was a student who has spent countless hours in my office, several more in my home and with my family. Every time we eat arroz con pollo we remember him because he enjoyed it so. He is part of our collective memory.
He grew up in China and was often befuddled by the America he saw in movies versus the one he found here. “What do you think people do at Easter?” he once asked. I explained that many would go to church. “Oh,” finally understanding, “It is a religious holiday.” Funny how Jesus got mixed up with all that chocolate and bunnies. I wonder if somewhere there are words that help people with such tragedy. The best I came up with when asked how I was doing were, “It’s been really hard.” That looks insufficient typed on a page. I assure you, it doesn't sound much better when spoken. Before this, I did not know I had so many tears for someone else's child. I attended the memorial service, a five-six hour round trip on an already long week. But, you only get to die once. This was his once. I had dinner with his family, and we told stories while they set a place for him at the table. That October Day From his window, he fell on that October day he fell No. He jumped Numerous and finite the memories stop with the last smile, the last goodbye now, over a year old Questions, impossible to answer, go round and round Why? Why? Why? Why? We ask over and over and over until we run out of breath What did we miss? How? questions of what might have been I wonder what he felt half way down Elation? Regret? (Is that morbid?) From his window he jumped on that October day he Jumped For a moment, the world stopped.
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"I don't understand why they make such a big deal about it," I exclaimed when I first became aware of the fact that gays and lesbians wanted marriage equality. I was a teenager at the time and was ignorant of the lack of laws and societal structures in place to protect homosexuals in the US. As the center of my own universe, I couldn't see how it would matter to me. Let's call this my "don't ask, don't tell" phase.
In college I was fortunate to go to a school where made friends across the sexual orientation continuum. I even briefly considered if I could at least be bi since there was a seductive energy around my friends as they bravely came out to their families. The angst and drama of it all, the hope and despair, the recipe for a real college experience, I bemoaned my boring heterosexuality. Fortunately for everyone, I resisted the temptation to co-opt another's experience in this way. During this time my eyes were opened as I watch friends who had family members turn their backs or try to convince them to pray the gay away while others were able to stand tall with their families at their side, fully supported and loved. After college I read articles, talked to people about the fact that they couldn't adopt the child they had with their partner, cried when I learned how people were denied access to loved ones in the hospital due to the fact that they were a same sex partner. I read the seven places in the Bible to try to understand what was said there. Only three of those places are in the New Testament and, if you care, Jesus never mentioned homosexuality. The language in the Bible is pretty strong, and depending interpretations of historical context, different conclusions can be drawn. And, there is a lot of strong language about how many sheep to slaughter and things about women that I cheerfully ignore daily. I tried to understand what was important for both sides and as far as I could tell only one side was being hurt by status quo and it wasn't the heterosexuals. It seemed the more I learned the more I understood what the big deal was and the less I could understand why anyone would want to deny others basic human dignity. I have quietly celebrated every time a see another state in the union where gays and lesbians now have the right to marry. The love and joy seen in the eyes of the couples can only be a good thing for human kind. So far I have not found the sanctity of my marriage damaged in any way, and even it had been, I am pretty sure that fair doesn't only worked when I get out ahead. As a parent I matter a factly told my daughter that some kids had two moms, two dads, only a mom or only a dad while others had a mom and a dad like her. That was about the extent of that "talk". She came home from school the other day after a heated discussion with some of her friends who were puzzled by her support of same-sex marriage. (Never underestimate what goes on at the lunch table.) One even offered to pray for her since he feared for her soul. She sighed to me, "I don't understand why they make such a big deal about it." |
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